


Occupied

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:10:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms





	

 

You were bent over the sink, splashing handful after handful of the crisp, cold water on your red hot cheeks when you heard the rattle of the doorknob behind you.

“Occupied!” you called over your shoulder.

That didn’t seem to deter whoever was at the door, because the noise continued. Already on edge, your hand immediately went to the middle of your back, groping for your gun, a gun that wasn’t there, not when you were playing the part of a doctor from the CDC. Your gun was currently locked in the trunk of the Impala. Damn tight skirt anyway.

You swung around, dropping into a fighting stance, hands up, just like Dean had taught you. Only to have Dean chuckle at you from the other side of the small bathroom as he slipped through the door, locking it behind him.

“Jesus Christ, Dean, you scared the shit out of me,” you snapped, dropping your hands to your side and unconsciously straightening your skirt. “What are you doing in here?”

Dean crossed the tiny room in two short strides, trapping you between the sink and his body. He put one hand on your ass and cupped your breast through the thin, cotton blouse with the other. He leaned over you, so close his lips brushed yours as he spoke.

“Hopefully, you.” The kiss was bruising, demanding, and intense, all of the pent up feelings you’d both been dealing with for nearly a week as the case had dragged on seemed to explode out of you in that moment of contact.

Dean grabbed the bottom of your skirt, his fingers dragging up your thigh, the calloused tips scratching at your sensitive skin. He yanked it above your waist so he could twist his fingers in the panties you were wearing, pulling them down just enough to get his hand between your legs, and his fingers in your pussy.

“Dean,” you gasped. “What the hell?”

“Door’s locked,” he growled. “We’ve got five, maybe ten minutes tops.” He dragged one finger through the soft folds of skin, circling your clit before sliding a single digit inside you, pumping it hard and fast. He nibbled at your lower lip until you opened your mouth, his tongue sliding in, this kiss rivaling the first.

Your knees felt weak, but Dean always did that to you, with a kiss, a touch, a look, he could rock your world without even trying. He pushed your underwear down until they were sliding down your legs and pooling around your ankles, another finger slipping in beside the first. You moaned, stepped out of your panties, kicked them aside, and let your legs fall open for him, grinding down on his fingers.

Dean broke off the kiss, grabbed you around the waist and turned you around, leaning you over the counter. Your hands came down on either side of the sink, your head down, your hair hanging in your face. You heard him behind you, heard his belt open, heard the sound of his zipper pulling down, and then he was pressed against you, his chest to your back, one arm around your waist, a hand on your shoulder as he entered you, a delicious burning stretch as his substantial length slid into you. You gasped, pushing back against him, wanting it all, every inch of him.

“It’s gonna be quick, princess,” he breathed, his breath hot against your ear. The hand around your waist slid down your stomach and between your legs, easily finding your clit. “But I promise it’ll be good. Just don’t scream.”

You nodded, your lower lip caught between your teeth, desperately trying to hold back your cries as Dean thrust into you, hard and fast. You squeezed the sides of the counter, able to do nothing more than hold on as he repeatedly slammed into you.

The feelings rolling through you were overwhelming, blocking out everything - every sound, every sight, every little thing - until it was just you and Dean and the sensations he was drawing out of you. You could feel the coil tightening deep inside you, tighter and tighter, the pleasure building to a frenetic force that wouldn’t be stopped until -

“Oh fuck,” you cried as you came, the orgasm too strong, too perfect, too pure, too much.

Dean’s thrusts became harder, more erratic, his hips pistoning at a maddening pace as he pounded into you, his hands clamping down tight on your waist as he climaxed, a deep groan rumbling through his chest.

He leaned over you, both of you spent, your body flush against his, his hands now gentle and soothing as he peppered your neck with soft kisses. You could have stayed there in his arms all day, but the rattle of the knob on the bathroom door ended those musings.

“Um...hello?” a tinny voice muttered, followed by a tentative knock.

“Occupied,” you and Dean yelled at the same time. You caught his eye in the mirror, both of you trying to muffle the eruption of giggles you felt coming on.

Whoever was on the other side of the door spouted off a few choice curse words, then you heard them stomping off down the hall.

“We better go,” Dean laughed, pressing one last kiss to the back of your neck. “Sam’ll be wondering what’s taking so long, anyway.” He stepped back and tucked himself back into his dark blue dress pants, before taking a cursory pass at straightening your skirt. A delighted smirk settled on his perfectly freckled face.

“What?” you sighed. You knew that look.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, popping the lock on the door and yanking it open. “You just look like you got good and fucked.” He winked at you and bolted out the door, his laughter trailing after him.

 


End file.
